Blemished Beauty
by monzziiee
Summary: On his first day of his sixth year at Hogwarts, Draco spots a beautiful girl sitting at his table, he is surprised when he finds out its someone he knows. Draco at first just wants her for her attractivness, then it starts becoming something more...
1. A New Beauty

Chapter 1: A New Beauty

Halfway through the start of term feast Draco decided to study his table, he looked out for first years that looked like they could be scared easily – they would become his new targets. He could see the newly sorted first years examining the enchanted ceiling, squealing at the fact that it replicated a night sky. Draco smirked, in about two weeks they wouldn't even take the smallest of glances at the ceiling; they'd get sick of it.

About a quarter into his inspection, he noticed a familiar looking girl sitting a few feet away from him. With striking sapphire blue eyes and thick, long chocolate brown wavy hair, she resembled beauty beyond compatibility. But for the life of him, he couldn't recognize her. He turned to his friend Pansy Parkinson, and nudged her. She whipped her head around and her jet black hair slapped her in the face, but she didn't notice; she seemed happy Draco wanted her attention.

"Who's that girl down there?" he pointed towards the beauty

"Which one?" Pansy looked in the direction he pointed, but obviously couldn't find the girl he attempted to point out

"The one who just laughed" he noticed, her pearly white teeth showing off a smile that made even Draco jealous

"Oh," Pansy looked a tad crestfallen, she had noticed Draco's interest in the mystery girl, "that's Aimee Hallicraft, she's in our year"

Draco recognized her at once, but she wasn't the girl he remembered from the previous year. Before the summer holidays she was a scrawny, brace face, acne covered girl – but now she had the makings of an athletic body, great smile and the clearest skin at the table. Draco almost couldn't believe the transformation; she had blossomed into a gorgeous 16 year old.

"Are you sure? She doesn't look like she did-" But Pansy cut him off

"That's because over the summer she went to live at her uncles, from her fathers side," she added at Draco's quizzical look, he had known she lived her aunt after her parents death, "Her uncle lives in the country – its obviously done her a lot of good – the braces are off too." She explained grudgingly, she wanted Draco's attention on her, not some girl who used to be uglier than a pile of bat dropping surrounded by wire. It wasn't easy to catch Draco's attention using good looks, but this girl wasn't even trying.

She turned to glance in his direction, her face even more beautiful in full view – he was glad she was in Slytherin, an easy snog whenever he wished – he'd make his move after the feast. Throughout the rest of the feast, Draco observed Aimee, how she ate, what she ate, he'd even laughed when she got into a miniature food fight with one of her friends. When she reached for pudding to dump on another unsuspecting Slytherin friend, Draco winced when he saw several, painful looking scars across the top of her right hand.

Draco decided to wait until everyone had settled into their dormitory rooms before attempting to gain Aimee's attention. He had waited a couple hours in one of armchairs in the dark, dungeon common room – she'd have to come out sooner or later. And evidently she had, obviously seeming as if she had just come out of a shower, her wet hair dripping as she slowly pranced to the couch nearest to the burning fire, the green light emanating from the lake and engulfing her face in its light. He stood up, ran his hand across his head and walked across the room, yet he didn't make it very far when a perfectly manicured hand came out of nowhere – he'd realized who it belonged to at once.

"There's an empty corner right behind you." purred Pansy

"Get off Pansy, I don't have time for your games." He said as he pushed her off of him, a bit too aggressively than he meant to.

"But-"

"No!" Draco, looked around carefully, a few heads had turned to face him and Pansy, who inconveniently happened to be right in the centre of the room. He looked up to where Aimee was sitting; she was completely engrossed in her book, oblivious of what was happening behind her.

"Later" he stage whispered, he continued his walk when he was sure all the heads had turned back. Slowly he came up behind her and leaned in so he was right next to her ear.

"Hey str-" but she reacted before he could finish and he very quickly found himself being poked in the neck with a wand. He eyes were wide in anticipation, as if she was waiting for him to attack, but she realized he wouldn't.

"Oh, it's only you Draco," she said in a calm voice, as if she hadn't just partly attacked him, "what do you want?"

"Just wanted to talk to you," he smiled slyly, slipping his left leg over the top of the couch and sliding with ease over the side, placing him directly next to her, "how was your summer?"

"Fine." She answered absentmindedly, turning a page of her book. Draco, once again noticed her scars.

"Heard you spent it with your uncle in the country" he leaned in

"Yup"

He heard a snigger from behind, he raised his head to see Pansy watching. He sent her an angry look and she quickly turned away. This girl was starting to annoy him, most girls would be vying for his attention, eternally grateful he'd even talk to them – she didn't look like she gave a dragons droppings. He took her right hand,

"What happened? Get attacked by Pansy's wild animal?" he was referring to his friend's cat, which, he gathered by her gasp, he knew would insult her. Aimee looked at him with terrified eyes, for a split second he thought he'd seen anger flash through her eyes, she jerked her hand away and stood up – abruptly losing the page in her book.

"Leave me alone Malfoy, it's obvious I _don't_ want to talk to you" she a furious exhale of breath, turned on her heel and ran up the stone stairs towards the girls dormitory.

"Did I forget to mention she hates you?" Draco loathed hearing Pansy's voice at the sudden moment

"Pansy, why don't you find one of your minions to annoy, because I won't be one of them." Draco also stood up, quickly; he'd almost knocked Pansy in the face and stormed up the steps towards the boys' dorm. A girl had never rejected him – ever. He was annoyed and a little bit confused too. He tried to think of why she would hate him. He'd never said anything unkind to her during their school years; then again he didn't really pay attention to her at all during their school years, tonight being the exception. _"Oh well,"_ he thought to himself, _"there's always tomorrow."_ And he'd promised himself that he'd find out why she had hated him so, and why this beauty was so blemished.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Aimee slammed the door behind her, she took a large furious step into the dorm room decorated with silver and emerald green curtains, silver colored beds with green bedding and screamed inwardly. She scanned the room one more time before throwing her book across the room in a fit of rage. She was glad nobody was in the room, she'd never let anybody see her breakdown like this. Not that she was upset; she was just angry – _so _angry.

"How dare he?!" she screamed, "I hate him! I _hate_ him!"

She stomped over to where the book had landed, the cover half ripped off. She hastily took her wand out of her pocket and muttered "_Reparo_" and it quickly mended itself.

Just then the door slowly creaked open; she turned around quickly, wand pointing at the door. She could see jet black hair poking through from behind the door. At once she realized it was Pansy. She quickly threw her wand on her bed and made herself look busy before Pansy could see her. As soon as she sat down on her bed with her book, Pansy faced her and with a knowing smile said;

"What's wrong? Why were you screaming?"

Aimee looked up, she would not give Pansy the satisfaction of telling her why she was angry, or that she was angry at all.

"Sod off Pansy"

"Oh, getting feisty this year are we? Didn't like the crying in the corner idea you've been using the past five years?"

This girl really didn't know how to stop did she?

"Pansy, we may be at school but don't think for a moment I care about getting into trouble for jinxing you – sod off" Aimee had said this slower than she meant to, but Pansy had already taken offence.

"Don't talk to me like I'm stupid," she snapped, adding "Hallicraft"

Aimee just ignored her, there were so many things she could say to Pansy right now, but she decided she didn't need the drama this early into the school year. Pansy took this as her queue to leave, so she gathered her things and headed to the showers.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next day, Draco heaved his books and utensils down to the potions lab. He wasn't surprised when he didn't see Crabbe & Goyle. He was delighted at the fact; however that Aimee had succeeded in being accepted into the N.E.W.T Potions class. He smiled to himself, she had to sit next to him, she couldn't escape, for this morning she seated herself as far away from him as possible and avoided his eyes all through breakfast.

When instructed to create Draught of Living Death by the new Potions Master, Slughorn, Draco watched as Aimee set off to work. She was always intelligent, the only student in their year that gave the Granger girl a run for her money. She got through her work quickly, waving her wand over the cauldron, muttering things under her breath. When she added a new ingredient halfway through the lesson however, she just barely escaped injury, for her cauldron had exploded; sending hot potion all over the desk, causing her to swear loudly.

"Miss Hallicraft! That is appalling behavior, swearing so freely!" exclaimed Slughorn; he hesitated before adding, "5 points from Slytherin, for such obscene language."

Draco smirked when he heard Aimee muttering something along the lines of "_I'll show you obscene language_", whilst cleaning up her mess, fuming over the fact she had to start over with half the time she had from the beginning. At the end of the lesson, Draco was angered by the fact that Potter, of all people, had finished his potion, perfectly. Even though he didn't want to admit it, he'd thought that at least Mudblood Granger would have been in Potters position, of all people.

Upon leaving the classroom, he saw Aimee pat the Potter boy on the back and say _Good Job_. Anger swelled up inside of him. Good job? Good job?! Of all people, she was saying that to a Gryffindor, who she was meant to hate. And then it dawned upon him, Aimee had always been nice to the Gryffindors, the only Slytherin to do so. He started walking out into the corridor. His curiosity got the better of him, he needed to know why. He caught a glimpse of her bouncy hair in front of him, and he jogged to catch up to her.

"Hey," he said breathlessly, "hey!" he'd repeated when she simply rolled her eyes and turned around a corner.

"What?" she turned around to face him, he could tell by her eyes, she did not want to talk to him

"Why are you so friendly with, er, Potty back there?" he asked

She narrowed her eyes

"I don't like it when you call him that" her body language threatened that she was about to turn around and leave him.

"Sorry then, Potter"

"He has a first name you know" she was getting agitated

"I was never fond of first names," he sneered, "Hallicraft" he'd added for good measure. She raised an eyebrow;

"Is there something you want, or do you enjoy wasting my time?"

"Why do you like Gryffindors so much?"

Her face twitched, and she became defensive almost instantly

"It's not in your business to know everything Draco! Or is your nose just as big as Snapes?"

She turned around, but he took her wrist before she could leave. He knew he had to get on her good side; he was making a pretty bad impression.

"Has anyone ever told you tha-" but he ended up finishing his sentence with a howl of pain as she stamped on his foot with her own, and vanished before he had time to realize she had been the one to hurt him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Once again, Draco Malfoy had managed to raise hatred inside Aimee. That pompous prick thought he could get anything he wanted, whenever he wanted. He didn't care where it came from or how, he just wanted it.

Well she wouldn't give him the satisfaction, she refused to communicate with him and she could tell he hated it. She on the other hand, found it amusing. But she still wondered, why now? Why all the sudden attention _now_? After five years? Not that she minded that much; he_ was_ the most sought after boy in the school, even some Gryffindor girls fancied him. Even though he was an arrogant git. She absent-mindedly scratched her right hand, but straight away pulled her hand away the moment her long nails came into contact with her scars. They were more painful than they were when they were fresh.

She remembered how her uncle fought for her when he came to take her away with him to the country. How she loved him, the only person in her family she truly loved. She quickly shut out the memories. She didn't want to re-visit them, for they were painful. Instead she wanted to ignore her pain, continue to learn, to have fun. She looked up and was delighted to see messy black hair, she quickened her pace to catch up, once she did she announced;

"Guess who!"

Harry turned around, he smiled when he saw who it was, his green eyes sparkled.

"Hey Aimee, off to Defense Against The Dark Arts?"

"Of course" she smiled, unlike Draco; Harry was not cold, arrogant or rude – unless he needed to be.

"What do you think Snapes gonna teach us? How to not wash hair, probably…"

Aimee chuckled; she did not mind his harmless teasing of her Head of House,

"I think that _Professor_ Snape might be teaching us how to cast spells without talking," she smiled towards Harry, "without yelling them nonetheless."

They both laughed, Harry always had a habit of shouting or yelling spells in DADA.

They turned the corner and walked together to their classroom. Draco stood near the doorway, about to walk in. Aimee smirked, just as she and Harry pushed past Draco and into the classroom.


	2. The Happenings Of A Ball

**Chapter 2: The Happenings Of A Ball**

A few days later at dinner it was announced, that for Professor Sprouts birthday, there would be a ball in her honor. Draco himself wasn't that excited about the idea of a ball, but as he looked up and down his table, he could see excited faces and whisperings. Professor Sprout got up from her table to add a few words.

"Thank you! Thank you…" she started, "Now as you all know there will be a ball held in my name," she blushed, "I shall define the details for you, one: all years are invited, but separate curfews will be set for each one," the younger students groaned, "two: formal attire is compulsory and three: attendance isn't!" she waved and smiled as she turned to sit back down at the staff table. Over the applause, Dumbledore raised his voice to say,

"The ball will be held in two weeks time! Trips to Hogsmeade will be made later this week to buy new dress robes for those who wish to attend but do not have any." The Headmaster sat back at his table after allowing dinner to resume.

But dinner did not resume in the slightest, the Hall was filled with excited whispering and laughter, students from different tables were talking to each other, it was the first ball since the TriWizard Tournament. What he was surprised to see, was that one Slytherin leant back to talk to a Gryffindor, it was Aimee.

Jealousy tug at Draco like an angry bulldog on a pant leg, it swelled when he saw Potter laughing with her. It seemed to him that they were discussing the ball – he would _not_ let them go together.

Over the next few days, Draco thought over how best to make sure that Aimee accompanied him to the ball and nobody else. If Potter thought he would be going with Aimee, he had another thing coming. Draco stopped himself. Why did he care so much? Then he remembered and smiled to himself. He was Draco Malfoy. And he got what he wanted. Whenever he wanted.

Draco knew exactly what he was going to wear to the Ball, so he knew that he didn't need the trip to Hogsmeade, he would spend that afternoon completing homework. But as he was studying in his common room he could hear girls giggling about what dress they were going to wear, what color it would be, how their hair would be styled, etcetera etcetera. Even the boys felt the need to dwell on the subject of the Ball, and who they were going to take. His cold, grey eyes swept the room, in search of Aimee and they found her, sitting in a corner with her back to the room. Isolated. She was scribbling on parchment; he assumed it was for their Charms Essay.

He envisioned escorting her to the ball. She was wearing a yellow, satin, floor length dress that wrapped her shoulders... no the dress was a sapphire blue, to match her eyes…

But he did not have the chance to finish his day dream, for a gruff voice interrupted his thoughts. It was Goyle.

"What was our homework from Defense?" he slurred, he was exceptionally slow at most things. Draco was surprised he'd been accepted into Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"Practice." He replied irritably.

"Practice what?" Goyle asked again, scratching his head.

"Non-verbal spells…remember?"

"Er… yeah" though Goyle looked unsure, he obviously didn't want to seem stupid to Draco, yet Draco thought that Goyle was stupid beyond help.

"Good luck," Draco muttered as Goyle left, "You're gonna need it."

Draco directed his gaze back to where Aimee was sitting. She had since stopped writing and was now re-reading her essay; Draco wanted to know if she was planning on going to the Ball with anyone. He tore off a piece of parchment and wrote down his question. Before scrunching it up in a ball he debated with himself whether or not he should sign the note. He decided it would be better if he didn't, he proceeded to scrunch the parchment into a ball and throw it across the room to where Aimee was sitting, it hit her in the back of the head and bounced off right next to the fire, so close to the flames they were threatening to engulf it.

Draco watched intently from his seat. Her head popped up only a moment later. She turned her head to look around her, searching for something. At last she spotted the parchment and reached for it, but she couldn't. She sighed heavily as she put her stuff to the side and crawled to where the ball was. With a curious expression plastered across her face she picked it up and walked back to the corner on her knees.

This time she didn't have her back to the room. She sat down, cross legged, opened the ball of parchment and began to read it. He smiled when she wrote something down and scrunched the already crumpled paper back into a ball again. She looked up, faced him – scowled- and threw the parchment back to him with perfect aim. He opened it so quickly he almost ripped it. He read:

_Sod OFF! You pompous prick._

_It's none of your business who I go with._

_Because it's certainly __NOT__ with you!_

Draco re-read the note. Why did she have to be so difficult? It's not like he was planning to marry her. He just wanted to take her to the Ball, snog her behind the castle and that would be the end of it. All she had to say was yes.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Aimee turned back to face the corner again. Oh how accomplished she felt at that moment, she knew she struck an off chord inside Draco. The last thing she would be doing is being his date to the Ball. To be honest, she wasn't even sure if she was going. "But it'll be fun!" her friends had exclaimed this morning when she told them about her change of mind. Even if she did go, there was no way she could buy herself a dress, unless she made one. But she wasn't gifted in that area of creativity; unfortunately.

And still, she didn't even know if she could afford to buy a dress, her aunt and uncle had only given her the minimum amount she needed, nothing given to her exceeded its limit. She sighed heavily. Even if she did go, she'd be restricted with her outfit and she didn't know who would be accompanying her. She sighed heavily, all this homework stressed her out; she couldn't wait until she graduated from Hogwarts.

She begrudgingly took out a textbook, opened it to the chapter they were studying and started to read.

But she couldn't. She couldn't take in one word and found herself rereading the exact same line over and over again. _I just need to clear my head,_ she told herself, _and I'll get out of this stuffy common room and clear my head._ She quickly made her way out of the Slytherin common room. She skipped through the dungeons and passed through many corridors when she passed a room with the door open, her curiosity getting the better of her, her opened it and walked into the room.

The large room echoed her footsteps as she made her way towards the middle of the room. It was much larger than the Great Hall; she'd wondered why she had never seen it before. When she reached the centre, she carefully examined the object that had drawn her towards it. Once she'd decided that it wasn't dangerous, she ripped off the dusty white sheet covering it. She gasped when she saw a shiny, Grand Piano, bigger than a normal sized Grand Piano.

She slowly walked to the seat, dragging her fingers along the side of the piano. She lifted the lid of the piano and sat down. With her finger she prodded a few keys, taking a deep breath she lifted her other hand and placed it on the keys. She first tried a few chords to see if the piano was in tune, which it was, much to her surprise considering how the piano looked: as if nobody had touched it for years, probably even decades; if not a century.

Slowly she started to play a light, slow melody; humming to herself. After practicing she attempted her favorite Mozart piece, playing it so quickly and swiftly her fingers barely touched the keys. She closed her eyes, absorbing the music, concentrating on the pitch, the sharps and the harmony.

_*blup, buhh*_

Aimee sighed. She always got stuck on this part. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't teach her fingers the difficult and tricky, swift cross-over movement. Again she continued to play; only it wasn't the same piece. It was different. More modern.

Her own.

It was a vibrant but slow, melodic song. She hummed loudly to the music. Then she started singing, not of her own accord. It was as if her voice had just taken over; as if it was only made to sing and nothing more.

"And oooh,

It's as if this fire wont burn out

And oooh,

This feeling lives without a doubt

This music comes from the heart"

She took a breath, and prepared to hit a high note

"Ooooooooooooooh,

Your beauty is an art

Oooh

This mirror, it lies

It won't tell me what is real

Uh no,

The eyes staring back aren't mi-"

She heard a creak from the door and froze. She didn't dare open her eyes. Aimee could hear someone starting to clap slowly, as if mocking her. After summoning up the courage, she opened her eyes and slowly turned her head around to face the door. Draco stood there smirking, looking mildly impressed. She silently fumed. Of all people, he had to be the one who saw, who heard. She would've given anything to realize that it was someone else, but there was no mistaking the white blond head of hair on the tall, handsome teenager slowly making his way towards her.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Draco could see the embarrassment in the sapphire hue blue eyes, glaring at him. She wasn't happy to see him. He'd followed her from the common room, it was late in the evening and they weren't allowed to wander the grounds, so his curiosity convinced him to follow her.

"Where did you learn to sing like that?"

But she didn't answer. She just sat there, momentarily intrigued by his presence.

"I asked you a question," he growled, "I would like an answer to it."

Her facial expression changed to something like amusement and anger at the same time. She raised an eyebrow.

"Oh I'm sorry, did I offend you Draco?" she replied coldly, "Because if I did, let me know; I might like to do it again later."

She took the lid and slammed it down, causing the piano to make an unpleasant sound in protest. She stood up to leave, but Draco had taken her by the shoulders and pushed her back on the seat. She widened her eyes, not in fear, but in anger.

"How- how dare you?!" she screeched, "You can't just push me like that!"

"I know, and I've been raised to treat a lady with respect, but since you aren't showing me any, I believe I'll make an exception." She wasn't the only one who was angry. Aimee tried standing up again, but Draco, who was significantly taller- and much stronger-, pushed her back down again, even though she tried dodging his grasp.

"Why do you despise me?" He asked gruffly

"I could ask you the same." She arched a smug eyebrow

"I asked you first"

"I asked you second"

He sighed angrily

"Answer the question Hallicraft"

"Oh, back on a second name basis again, Malfoy?"

"Stop playing games and just answer"

"Why I despise you so? With pleasure" And he saw it in her face, she was going to take pleasure in her answer, "I hate you because you are a pompous, uptight, stuck up, arrogant, conceited, spoiled brat and a git and you treat everybody else around you except for your posse like scum, and then some. But then again you don't even treat _them_ with the respect they deserve, considering they've been through so much becoming your minions. I don't know Draco, do you think I've elaborated enough on my answer?" She was now panting; Draco realized she hadn't taken a single breath throughout her entire comeback. But this hadn't offended Draco at all. He knew all this was true, well some of it; he obviously wasn't about to admit it though. All he did was smirk.

"I don't know Hallicraft. Could do with a bit more…" he trailed off, trying to find a suitable word, "oomph." He'd finished; satisfied with his answer. Her nostrils flared, her lips became pursed and for a second he thought he saw a flash of flame in her eyes. She stood up quickly, drew back her arm and slapped him as hard as could. The sound of her hand against his cheek echoed through the room as loudly as it was painful – very. His hand immediately flew up to his cheek. Aimee took this as her chance to leave and did so before Draco could stop her.

"That bitch," he muttered angrily, he checked his reflection in the piano, there was a large, red handprint on his left cheek. He knew he deserved it though. He _was _quite rough with her.

But still, this wasn't what had actually fazed him. It was her musical ability. She had the voice of an angel, her high notes were perfect, incredible; it had sent shivers up his spine. He'd watched her hands on the piano; they looked like they'd belonged there, like they'd lived there their entire life.

Then he smirked, and remembered her wise crack about offending him. It was brilliant in his opinion, if only he'd thought of it himself. She had the right attitude to match her beauty. He was quite impressed by her, now he really had to make it up to her; he knew she would not come easily. Not as easy as the others. As he wandered back to the dungeons, he thought that the ball would be the perfect opportunity to change her mind, with all the dancing and music – it could distract her from the fact she hated him. And then it hit him – he'd dance with her. Even if she didn't want to, he'd find a way. Girls were always impressed by his ballroom skills. His strong arms, tall body and footwork most of the time swept them off their feet.

"_This is going to be easier than I thought." _


	3. Date With A Devil

It was a Saturday. A particularly warm day, considering it was autumn. Draco decided that he would get out of the common room and take a stroll through the grounds. When he stepped out of the castle, the hot air hit him instantly and almost suffocated him, to the point where he wanted to pull off his robes. He wasn't too surprised when he saw students dipping their feet into the lake, some even daring to swim in it.

He thought he would try the cooling water of the lake for himself – just not in front of the other students. He'd find a secluded area, where he could enjoy himself in the lake without the interruption of others. He quickly made his way around the lake for a good ten minutes. Deeming he was far away enough from the other students, he sat down next to an oak tree and gazed at the water, trying to decide whether or not to actually dip into the dark lake.

Then there was a disturbance, not too far from him. He quickly picked himself up and hid behind the wide tree. A head popped up from under the water. For a moment he thought it was one of the creatures living in the water, he was terrified of the thought of actually seeing its face, when the head turned around. Her face was covered by her hair, sticking to her cheeks and eyes, but Draco knew it was her. The chocolate of her hair and the striking gaze of her eyes gave her away.

It was Aimee.

He smiled to himself. He could only hope that she decided to not wear a swimsuit, but all he could do was watch. She started swimming towards the shore of the lake, and Draco glanced to where she was swimming, he hadn't noticed the pile of clothes and a towel only a few meters away from where he had taken refuge from the burning sun. He directed his eyes back to where Aimee was swimming, but she wasn't there anymore. Draco got up from his previous squatting position and stood there behind the tree, waiting worriedly for her to appear again.

And she didn't disappoint. Seconds later, her head popped up again, more gracefully this time as her hair wasn't sticking to her face. When she'd made it to a shallow part of the lake, she stood up, showing that she was wearing a black one-piece swimsuit, much to Draco's disappointment. Though what did please him was that the back of the swimsuit didn't leave much to the imagination, if nothing at all.

Without any control he took a step forward, stepping on a twig and quickly jumped back behind the tree. She looked up to where he was only a split second earlier. Aimee carefully scanned the trees and turned her back on them. Draco's eyes opened wide in terror when he'd seen what was on her back.

"What in the world..." he whispered to himself.

She looked as if a werewolf had attacked her, for there were numerous scars defacing her back.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Without showing concern, or acting panicky, Aimee quickly dressed. It was clear to her that there was something watching her – and she didn't want to anger it in fear of attack.

_I knew I shouldn't have left my wand in the dorm_, she thought angrily to herself. God, she was so stupid! When she decided to go for a swim she contemplated whether or not to take her wand, but decided against because she saw no need for it – well she saw the need now.

She patted down her clothes and instantly regretted her decision. She was still a little damp from the water and her clothes became sticky; but she pretended as if nothing had happened. She wanted to get back to the castle, and fast.

Aimee grabbed her towel, wrapped it around the ends of her hair and turned to make her way towards the castle – calmly; or at least she hoped it looked that way.

She walked at a moderate pace towards the castle when she heard a twig snap. She spun around; her hair sticking to her face.

"What do you want Malfoy?" she said almost pleadingly. She hadn't missed the head of platinum blonde hair. Aimee watched as Draco walked out from the shadows.

"Nothing," he answered haughtily, "just taking a stroll – it is rather a warm day, don't you think?"

Aimee took a deep breath.

"Look Draco, you've been following me around ever since we got back from summer holidays, what do you want? What could you possibly want from me?!"

Draco raised an eyebrow and smirked,

"Just your company at the ball"

"If I say yes will you leave me alone?" Her blue eyes met his gray ones and pleaded with him to agree.

"Fine, I'll leave you alone – but only until the ball"

Aimee opened her mouth to argue, but quickly closed it when Draco made an expression that dared her to argue with him.

"Fine" and with that Aimee turned her back on him and jogged to the castle, if Draco was going to take her to the ball – she'd better pick a really nice dress, not that she wanted to impress him or anything, she couldn't care less what he thought about her, just so his…

_Just so his reputation wouldn't be… ruined_, she reasoned with herself. Yes, just so he would stay upper class, and wouldn't attend the ball with his date in a daggy dress. Or rather, she should go to the ball in a daggy dress, just to embarrass him…

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Draco entered his common room that afternoon with a skip; finally – he had achieved his goal! Aimee was going to the ball with him. He just hoped she'd choose something suitable, not something skimpy that some girls thought it would be cool to wear to a ball, when it really wasn't. Smirking to himself, he strided to the bookshelf and ran his finger over the spine of the books.

_Hmm, this looks interesting…_

"So-" said a voice from behind him

"Ah!" he quickly turned around, "Pansy" he growled

"What?" she asked innocently, widening her eyes like a little girl, "I was only wondering what got you so upbeat – normally you walk around with a scowl all the time."

"I do not walk around with a scowl all the time!" Draco defended himself, turning around to face her

"Yes you do" she replied

"No, I don't"

"You do…" said a quiet voice from his side. It was a third year boy – and he immediately regretted his decision, for Draco scowled at him and said in a low voice "If you're not gone by the time I get to 3 – you will regret it" and watched as the younger wizard ran off to join his friends.

"See?" Pansy continued, "You scowl"

"Oh, shut up Pansy" Draco whined turning away, "You're annoying me"

"I don't care"

"You will soon" he threatened

"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?" she asked, angrily

"Because if you don't close your mouth soon, I just might - Aimee!"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Aimee stepped into the common and looked up – there he was again; only this time with Pansy. Nowadays he was always there every time she looked – and it was very annoying. She simply walked right past him and into her dorm room.

_Now…_ she thought, _what shall I wear to the ball…_


	4. Hogsmeade

Aimee took fast steps to her dormitory room, and she heard another pair of footsteps travelling up the stairs behind her. Reaching her door, she whipped her head around to see her follower. Unsurprisingly, it was Pansy.

"What have you got that I don't?" she pouted at Aimee, "It's definitely not money, power or class" she said with a look of slight disgust on her face. Aimee scoffed at the childish insult. She was used to being teased by Pansy.

"It could be my ability to mind my own business, or the fact that I don't follow him around like a puppy dog all the damn time" she countered

Pansy screwed up her face at Aimee, without managing to think of a witty comeback she turned around and ran back down the stairs.

Content with herself, Aimee opened the door to her dormitory room and walked over to her four-poster bed where she twirled around and collapsed onto her bed.

Red would definitely be her color, she thought. The girl turned around and pulled a piece of parchment and a quill from under her bedside table, rolled onto her stomach and started scribbling down what she wanted for her dress. After a few minutes she had a list;

_Red_

_Silk_

_Corset?_

_Floor length_

_No__ ruffles_

_Capped sleeves_

She didn't have much money, so she knew she'd have to find a way to make this dress herself. The trip to Hogsmeade was in two days, so she planned to buy red silk and ask Professor McGonagall to help her create it with magic. For the next couple of hours until bedtime, Aimee sat on her bed sketching a design for her dress. Being the perfectionist she was, she didn't stop until she was completely happy with what she had.

* * *

It was morning. The sun streamed in on Draco's face. He blinked a few times before opening his eyes fully. Rolling over, he pulled off his blanket and placed his feet on the floor before stretching and yawning. He looked up at his calendar. It was the Sunday they were meant to go to Hogsmeade. He quickly got dressed and went to the bathroom. Before he left his dormitory for breakfast he grabbed a bag filled with gold, and stuffed it in his pocket.

At breakfast he helped himself to a few pieces of toast and some pastries. Whilst munching on his food, Draco was giving some thought to which robes he would buy, deciding a dark emerald green would be the most suitable color.

Under the special circumstances, Dumbledore had allowed students without a permission slip to come on the trip to Hogsmeade, but they had to be paired with a student who did have a permission slip. Draco met up with Crabbe and Goyle and they walked together to Hogsmeade. When his comrades were not looking, he slipped away and walked briskly through the cold, crisp air to Gladrags Wizardwear and stepped in. As soon as he opened the door, the soft tinkle of the bell above him rang, and almost instantaneously a short, wide man with white crazy hair and a thick moustache came out from the back. He immediately recognized who Draco was,

"Good morning Mr. Malfoy!" he greeted kindly, with a large smile on his face, "I see you are here to order dress robes for the ball?"

"Yes, I am. Tell me," he answered, slightly haughtily, "do you have robes in emerald green?"

"Why, yes of course. Just received a shipment last night! You know, Dumbledore warned me about the ball," he explained, bustling around the room to retrieve the necessary materials, "and I'm glad he did! Otherwise, I would've been completely unprepared for all the students!" he motioned for Draco to come over and stand in front of the mirror, "You're the first to come in today." he added cheerily

The rest of Draco's measuring was done in silence. In the few minutes this was being done, students entered the store, looking around for robes that they liked, examining the colors, designs and sizes. Before Draco could ask for samples, a folder of fabrics was placed gently in his hands and was opened to the greens. He ran his finger over some of the fabrics, whilst the man helped a group of Ravenclaw girls who had just entered the shop. Finally, Draco decided on an emerald green so dark, it could've passed off as black. He gave the folder back to the man, indicated which color he wanted, and left the shop. He didn't watch where he was walking because he collided headfirst with someone, and fell on his rear-end.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" apologized a familiar voice, he looked up and saw bushy hair over a pretty face, it was Hermione Granger. As soon as she saw it was Draco, she muttered to herself "Never mind"

A hand from behind her, hoisted her up by her upper arm, but he didn't see who it was under the beanie.

"Watch where you're going Mudblood" he snarled viciously, he knew it was his fault too, but nonetheless, he hated her. He suddenly found himself at the wrong end of a mahogany wand.

"Say it again; I dare you." whispered Aimee coldly, "Say _it_"

Draco was bewildered. Why was Aimee sticking up for Granger? A Slytherin defending a Gryffindor was completely absurd, unheard of. Yet, it was happening right in front of his eyes. She was glaring darkly at him; the short exhales of breath coming from her nose looked almost like steam in the cold air. Hermione was tugging softly on her arm, whispering in her ear _"It's not worth it…"_

"Put that thing away before you poke someone's eye out" he snapped, pushing it out of the way, and walked away.

Rubbing his hands to keep them warm, he headed into the Three Broomsticks, where it was much warmer, and he took off his gloves and scarf, and bought himself a butterbeer. He spotted Blaise Zabini, Goyle, Pansy and Crabbe sitting together at a table in the corner, he went to join them. He pulled up a chair for himself and sat down, greeting them with a quiet 'Hey' and they responded.

"Where did you get off to?" asked Crabbe

"I told you, I was going to get my robes fitted." He half lied. He'd gone to get his robes measured, but he had told them no such thing

"Okay" Crabbe seemed to accept this without argument, and Draco assumed it was because he was so thick, he couldn't even remember.

They sat at the table enjoying their butterbeers in awkward silence, and when they'd all finished they all went to Gladrags Wizardwear, except for Draco, who went back to the castle.

* * *

"You really shouldn't have done that," Hermione told Aimee, as she browsed through the rack of gowns in the shop, "you should've just, let it go"

Aimee turned to face Hermione, who was standing to her right,

"Let it go? He needs to finally learn that he can't just go around, willy-nilly saying whatever he likes, to whomever he likes and not care about the repercussions!" Aimee said, her voice getting increasingly higher with each word she spoke, with a little pink reaching her face,

"Besides, you're my friend, I wont just stand back and let people call you that… that… word" she turned around, so Hermione couldn't see her anymore, and pretended to be interested in a pair of silver high heels.

"I'm flattered," answered Hermione genuinely, "but as I said before, he's not worth it."

"I'm going to the ball with him" mumbled Aimee; she hadn't told anyone she was attending the ball with Draco, partly because she had nobody to confide in, but partly because she was a bit embarrassed.

"What? I didn't hear"

"I said," she sighed heavily, "that I'm going to the ball with Draco… Malfoy"

Hermione looked at her skeptically, narrowing her eyes.

"Surely not?"

"I'm not joking"

"Well, then, that's your choice" Hermione said indifferently, but Aimee knew she didn't completely agree with the idea

"I only said yes because he wouldn't leave me alone until I did, and besides," she sighed, "it's not like I can show up with a Gryffindor, because if I could, trust me, I'd be going with one" She turned and started looking through a section of yellow dresses.

"I don't understand, why are you in Slytherin, if you'd rather be in Gryffindor – you hate Slytherin!"

"I don't _hate_ Slytherin but… well; it's not exactly my first choice"

"But _why_?"

"I'll tell you later" she lied, she had no intention of telling Hermione, she had no intention of ever telling anyone. Hermione bit her lip, she knew Aimee wasn't going to tell her, but didn't say anything. Instead, she pulled out a mauve chiffon floor length dress, with floor length pieces of fabric coming from under each side of the bust and crossing over each shoulder.

"Oohh" she ran her hand down the side of the dress, "I like this!"

"Yeah, it's pretty" agreed Aimee, as Hermione rushed off to the dressing rooms to try it on.

While she waited for Hermione to try on the dress, she walked around, looking for suitable fabrics for her dress. She spotted several that she liked, but finally decided on a cherry red silk, and bought several meters, then decided to buy even more, just incase she ran out. As soon as she finished her transaction, Hermione came out of the dressing room, half the store stopped to look at her. Because of her bushy hair, and her previously large front teeth, Hermione's beauty was often over-looked, but in the dress, she was undeniably beautiful. The color suited her skin tone perfectly, and looked soft against the color of her hair, the bust of the dress fit her perfectly and the waist nipped in just nicely. She looked like pure royalty wearing it (except for the hair of course).

"Well, what do you think?" she asked Aimee hopefully

"I think if you don't buy it now, somebody else will. It looks amazing! Turn around!" she motioned with her finger as she said this, and Hermione did a small twirl, giggling. She went back to change into her clothes and came out a couple minutes later, and paid for the dress.

"Are you sure you want to make your dress on your own? You don't want any help?" Hermione asked

"Positive"

* * *

_Notes:_

So sorry, it took so long! I've just been preoccupied with other stuff! Hopefully you'll enjoy :)

For a better visual of Hermione's dress put this: photobucket

before this: .com/home/heartsmoe

password is: heartsmoe

in the URL bar and it's the red dress titled 'Hermione's Dress'

It's the same thing, only hers is mauve :)

(Or you can just type 'chiffon' into Google Images and it should be the first two dresses)

Enjoy!

P.S for some reason I can't post links, so yeah :/


	5. Something Different

The bell rang.

"For homework, you shall write me a two-foot essay on the transfiguration of humans," Professor McGonagall shouted over the noise of students packing up their necessities, "Class dismissed!"

But there was no point in dismissing them, because half of the class was already out the door. Aimee stayed back, she had a question for Professor McGonagall, who was now packing her things hurriedly. Aimee walked to her desk,

"Um, Professor?"

Professor McGonagall looked up at her in mild surprise,

"Yes?"

"I was wondering… whether you- well – I-"

"Spit it out Miss Hallicraft, I have a meeting to get to, and no time to get there"

"I need help to make a dress. With magic" she added, at her teachers' furrowed brow. Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow,

"Isn't this something more under the subject of 'Charms'?" she asked

"Well… yes, but, it's not something to ask a… a male"

"Yes, of course. I understand. You want to make a dress?" she said, thinking, "Well I personally never really took to making clothing, but I can give you the name of a book in the library which will help you"

She pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill, hastily opened an ink bottle, dipped the quill in it and wrote so fast she was finished within a couple seconds. She handed it gruffly to Aimee,

"There will some spells in there that might be difficult for you, but I'm sure you'll be fine, after all," she explained, "you are in mine and Professor Flitwick's N.E.W.T. classes. Good luck." And with a flash of her robes, she marched out of the classroom.

Aimee looked at the parchment in her hands. The book was called '_Creating Clothing for the Creative_' by '_Esmeralda Knight'_

It was lunchtime, so she decided to visit the library on her way to Great Hall. She asked Madam Pince about the book, and the usually snippy librarian raised her hand, and pointed a thin finger vaguely in the left direction, without actually specifying its location.

Sighing, she walked in the direction she was pointed to and slowly browsed the shelves, running her finger across the spine of each book, to make sure she didn't miss it, and she muttered the names under her breath,

"_Collecting Cloaks… Conjuring Cats…Creating Clothing for the Creative_ – aha!" she spotted the book, and pulled it from the shelf, flicking through it as she walked back to the librarians desk. There were diagrams of threaded needles floating in mid-air, materials being woven together, and instructions on creating almost every type of clothing Aimee could think of. She checked it out from the library and made her way down to the Great Hall.

The ceiling, as always, reflected the weather outside, and at this moment there were very light snowflakes beginning to fall. She sat down at the Slytherin table and helped herself to some avocado and salmon sandwiches and water. As she ate her sandwiches, she opened _Creating Clothes for the Creative_, and read the contents page:

_Introduction to sewing with magic... 1_

_Threading a needle with thread... 4_

_Bewitching a needle to sew...6_

_How to measure...11_

_Cutting patterns...17_

_Sewing shapes...29_

_Sewing pants...34_

_Sewing shirts...52_

_Sewing dresses...73_

_Sewing skirts...95_

_Sewing robes... 107_

She turned to page 73 and scanned the information written on the pages. She absentmindedly scratched the scars on her right hand, and then winced. It was easy to forget that they still hurt, but they got itchy so often, she couldn't help it. She suddenly got a flash of a distant memory, only for a split second. The wind was flowing through her hair, and suddenly, she heard screams and all she remembered was pain. She wasn't sure from where this had come from, but she had an idea.

Scoffing down the rest of her sandwiches, she slammed the book shut and headed to the third floor, where the Charms classroom was located. She was twenty-five minutes early, so she slumped down against the wall, opened her _Charms: N.E.W.T._ and began to read.

* * *

Draco was throwing his belongings into his trunk, grabbing whatever he could reach and chucking it messily onto the pile of clothes situated in the centre of the trunk, the letter from his father still open on his bed. He had received it from Professor Snape; it had a few simple words written on it:

_Come home quickly, we've arranged your departure._

He had no idea what was going on, all that Professor Snape had told him was to come to his office, all packed, in one hour. He had 10 minutes left.

After deciding he'd packed enough, he managed to close his trunk by using 'Colloportus' and rushed to Professor Snape's office. Upon reaching the dingy room, his Head of House immediately looked up.

"Come Draco," he said quietly, "The Portkey leaves in a minute."

He flicked his wand at Draco's trunk, and it vanished out of his hands, he assumed it was sent to his home.

"Professor, what's happening, why does my father want me home?"

"It's only for a couple of days, you've been given permission, now hurry!"

"But-"

"No time!" growled Snape, as he grabbed Draco's hand, and pushed it onto metal jug that Draco hadn't noticed before. As he did this, the jug glowed blue, and Draco felt himself being pulled from behind, somewhere around his navel area, and then being swirled around.

He landed feet first in the grand foyer of his home, but his landing had been so abrupt that he fell to his knees, and the jug clanged as it collided with the marble floor. The noise had obviously gained the attention of the inhabitants of the Manor, because his mother and father came rushing into the room to investigate. Draco would've thought that they'd look pleased, at least relieved to know it was him, but the haughtiness that usually ruled their faces was gone, there was no confidence in their expressions. In fact, they looked scared and tired. Lucius outstretched his hand to help Draco from the floor silently.

Before Draco could ask what was going on, he saw another figure entering the room. With dirty, black, unruly hair, a gaunt pale expression, wild eyes and an evil smile, Bellatrix Lestrange swiftly entered the room, her wand in her hand.

"Ahh, he has arrived!" she exclaimed with glee, "I shall notify Him at once!" and she left the room just as swiftly as she'd entered it.

"Mother, Father," started Draco, turning to each of his parents, "what is going o-"

"Don't talk, just stay silent unless he asks you a question" his father responded in a whisper so quiet, Draco only understood what he was being told a few seconds later.

"Who-"

"Sh!" His mother said. They led him quietly through the grand foyer, and down the main corridor that led to several different rooms on the East side of the Manor. Draco didn't dare say a word, and when his father opened the fourth door to his right, he understood why.

Voldemort was sitting in a high backed chair at the end of the room. There was a fire crackling excitedly behind him, and it cast an eerie glow around them, for it was the only source of light.

His parents bowed their heads, and Draco followed suit. He could feel his mother's hand gripping his with such force; he thought the bones in his hand would surely break. He didn't mind though, he felt slightly safer knowing that she was there, holding his hand, as though she was almost telling him, _Everything will be alright Draco_. But he knew she could not say this now, because he'd know it was a lie. To Draco, his father was always a brave man, but now, standing by his side, Draco could literally feel the fear emanating from his father, and all his hope dashed.

_What if he wants to kill me?_ Draco thought wildly. He suddenly felt his mother's hand let go of his own, and a stranger's hand was now pushing him from behind, leading him closer to Voldemort, who was watching this all with a look of indifference on his face.

Draco was now mere feet away from Him, and out of fear of punishment, he feel to his knees.

Voldemort looked slightly pleased.

"Your son," he spoke to Lucius and Narcissa, "is a fast learner, and smart. I like that." He looked down at Draco, got to his feet and said: "Stand"

Draco quickly got to his feet, but stood with his head facing the floor. He was petrified; he didn't even want to look at The Dark Lord. He saw his red, gleaming eyes from across the room earlier, and he hoped it'd be for the last time. Voldemort started pacing slowly in a circle around Draco, observing him, judging him on whether or not he was fit for the job he had in mind.

"How old are you?" he asked him, still pacing. The question surprised Draco, who answered with a delay:

"I'm sixteen"

"How many O.W.L.'s did you receive?"

Draco counted the subjects in his head as quickly as he could. He was scared that a delay too long in his answer would result in his death.

"Seven"

"Impressive, I myself received eight. What was your lowest grade?"

"Exceeds Expectations"

"Very well, and your marks on Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts?"

"Outstanding"

Voldemort turned to Bellatrix, who was standing in the corner, watching the scene with such glee, that anymore happiness and she would explode.

"You were right Bellatrix!" he told her, "Smart boy he is, now," –Voldemort turned to face Draco – "is he brave?"

Draco didn't know whether or not to answer, but the looks on his parent's faces told him to stay silent.

"I have a job for you; failure to accept it will result in your death... and possibly your parents death aswell"

Draco gulped. He told himself no matter the job, he'd do it.

"Well?" Voldemort asked, his voice slightly rose, "Are you ready to hear it?"

"Yes"

"You are to kill Albus Dumbledore" he told him simply, as if he was telling him the weather. Draco's heart sunk at once. True, he never did like Dumbledore, but he'd never want to kill him, or kill anyone for that matter.

"Yes" he answered in a hoarse voice that was not entirely his own. Voldemort smiled.

"Excellent, then nobody dies today, at least yet. The day is still young."

Some of the Death Eaters in the room sniggered.

"Hold out your left arm" he ordered Draco. He did as he was told; he stuck out his left arm. Voldemort pushed Draco's sleeve up with his wand and then pressed it hard into his forearm. Draco suddenly felt a sharp pain up and down his left arm. It was a burning feeling, like it was on fire. He screwed up his eyes in pain, but did not make a noise; he did not want to be perceived as weak. After a minute, the pain stopped, and Draco felt Voldemort's wand being lifted off his arm. Where there was once nothing, there was now a Dark Mark on his forearm. It was black, with pink around the outline because his skin was just burned. His sleeve slid back down his arm, and back into place.

"Leave now" Voldemort said coldly, plopping back down into his chair, resting his head on his hand and examining his wand, as if deep in thought, "You may return to Hogwarts now if you wish, but do not forget your job."

Draco nodded, gulped and bowed, then quickly strode to the other end of the room, where his parents were waiting for him. They joined his pace, and the three of them left the room together.

The door did not close immediately behind them. Bellatrix had followed them out of the room, and closed the door behind her gently. That was when Narcissa turned on her sister,

"You!" she whispered harshly, as they walked briskly down the hall, "How dare you!"

They had now reached the end of the corridor, and the two women stopped abruptly. Lucius led his son a few feet away.

"How dare I?" Bellatrix replied, "I have just helped bestow a great honour on your family! The Dark Lord himself, just gave your son the chance to prove himse-" Narcissa didn't allow her sister to finish,

"That could very well result in his death!" she shrieked. There was a distant echo in the room.

"This was not for you to decide!" she continued, "It was not your place to offer my son to him! It was mine!"

"So you're jealous I'd thought of it first, is that it?" Bellatrix rounded on her sister, she was now yelling too.

"NO! I never wanted him to do this! How dare you! You are tearing my family apart! You have betrayed your own sister by taking away her only son! How could you? If my son dies, just remember, his blood will be on your hands!" The last words of Narcissa's yells echoed loudly throughout the room, as she turned on her heel and left. Bellatrix did the same, in the opposite direction.

Lucius's hand left Draco's shoulder as he left to follow his wife in order to comfort her, and Draco stood there, stunned at what he just saw, his mothers' shrieks still echoing in his ears.

* * *

The last lesson of the day for Aimee was Defence Against the Dark Arts, and it was with the Gryffindor's. She entered the classroom with the rest of the students, without even realising that Draco was missing, put her books on her desk and sat down.

"Books and utensils away, wands out." Snape told them, "We will be practising non-verbal spells again, I will pair you up."

Within a minute, Snape had paired each Slytherin with a Gryffindor. It was obvious to Aimee he took pleasure in this, because everyone hated their partner, more or less. Aimee's partner was Pavarti Patil, to the right of her was Pansy and her partner Hermione, and to her left was Seamus Finnigan paired with Blaise Zabini.

"Just like last lesson, _disarming_ spells _only_." Snape made a point to put emphasis on these words, because he knew, just like the rest of them, this would end in disaster.

The class spent the better half of an hour attempting to disarm their partner without speaking. Last lesson they had all been muttering the incantation under their breath, but this time managed to refrain from doing so.

"I wonder where Malfoy is," Aimee heard Seamus whisper to Harry, "he never misses a lesson."

"Five points from Gryffindor" Snape snarled

"What for?" Seamus asked, turning around

"For speaking out of turn"

"But-"

"Speak again, and it'll be a further five points, Finnigan."

Fortunately Seamus had the good sense to stay quiet.

"Git" Aimee heard Ron mutter, but Snape evidently hadn't. The silence went on for a further few minutes when Draco was brought up again,

"Where's your boyfriend Pansy?" Aimee looked diagonally to her right in surprise. Hermione had whispered this to Pansy. Aimee quickly looked at her fellow Slytherin, who had evidently turned red in the face, she suddenly whispered,

"Furnunculus!" But Hermione had heard her, and was much faster than Pansy, and she reciprocated the spell with

"Protego!" but this was much louder than a whisper, and the whole class, including Snape, turned to the two girls. The jinx had rebounded off of Hermione's shield and hit Pansy square in the face. She let out a loud wail, and her hands immediately flew to her face. Hermione looked slightly pleased with herself, but she knew straight away she wouldn't get away with it, not in Snape's classroom.

"Granger!" yelled Snape, "Thirty points from Gryffindor! I said disarm ONLY!"

Hermione was ready to defend herself

"But she was the one that jinxed me!" Snape disregarded her comment,

"Zabini, take her to the Hospital Wing" and some of them watched as Blaise took Pansy by the arm, and led her out of the room.

"And detention Miss Granger, I will not have such behaviour in my classroom."

Aimee had enough, she was tired of Snape picking on the Gryffindors, it was completely unfair.

"That's ridiculous!" she yelled, all heads turned to look at her in surprise, some of the Slytherins in disgust. Here she was, a pureblood Slytherin, defending a muggle-born Gryffindor.

"That is completely and utterly unfair, and you know it! You always do this to the Gryffindors, you are always biased towards the Slytherins, and I don't see the other Heads of Houses doing this to students in other Houses! You can't just give a detention to someone who was defending themselves! If it were a Slytherin you wouldn't be so quick to punish, would you?"

Snape stood there, along with the rest of the class, in mild shock. Nobody ever dared to speak to him like this. Aimee opened her mouth to continue, but he interrupted her,

"Stay quiet Miss Hallicraft, do not dig yourself a deeper hole"

This enraged Aimee, he was just proving her point.

"If I was a Gryffindor that would've given me detention for a week!" she screeched, "Go on! Punish me! Prove me wrong! But then again, I'm a Slytherin, wouldn't want to punish a Slytherin, now would you?"

Snape curled his lips, he looked enraged as well. The rest of the class stood silently, waiting for him to start yelling, but he didn't, though when he spoke his voice was louder than it usually was,

"You know what Miss Hallicraft," he hesitated, "Twenty points from Slytherin"

The Slytherins in the room threw her dirty looks.

"What? No detention?"

"Get out" he snapped, pointing his finger at the door, "Get out of my classroom"

Aimee didn't argue, she walked to her desk, picked up her bag and stalked out of the classroom, muttering as she went,

"If I was in Gryffindor it would've been detention for two weeks"

And so she spent the rest of her day in the Slytherin common room finishing her homework, and wondering where Draco indeed was.


	6. Distant Memory

**Note:**

Sorry, it's so short. Enjoy!

* * *

It was late when Draco arrived back at Hogwarts castle. He checked his watch, it was 11:50. His trunk was heavy in his cold hands, as he trudged up the grounds alone. He walked silently through the Entrance Hall, the only noise were his school shoes tapping against the stone floor. He walked slowly, his eyelids drooping slightly as he made his way to the dungeons. He walked through the tunnels leading to the Slytherin common room, said the password and stepped in through the wall. He hadn't expected anybody else to still be awake, but he was wrong. There were a few stragglers, mostly seventh years, but as he'd understood, they were heading for bed. As he walked through the common room, his eyes darted to the fireplace, where at the coffee table sat Aimee, with a book open in front of her, her wand in her hand. She seemed to be reading the words aloud to herself, and kept doing complicated flicks with her wand.

Before he could stop himself, he whispered tiredly to her,

"Hey"

She raised her head, she too looked tired.

"Hi"

They stayed silent for a minute, just looking at each other. Then Aimee narrowed her eyes and asked,

"What's wrong?"

He knew at once she could see a difference in him, she could sense something wrong. But he knew he couldn't tell her anything, not a word, not a whisper.

"Nothing" he told her curtly. She gave a short exhale, and went back to her book, muttering the word '_Partum Postulo' _and flicking her wand. Draco once again saw the scars on her right hand, and curiosity got the better of him,

"How did you get those scars?" he asked her this in a whisper, though he did not know why. She stopped what she was doing and looked at him, she didn't look tired anymore. She seemed as though she was going to tell him, she opened her mouth speak, but nothing came out. She looked down at her hand, looking as though she was contemplating actually telling him. She looked up again and he realised she was seeing if the room was empty. They both spotted a second-year asleep in one of the armchairs across the room.

"Long story." she answered, closed her book and got up, she swayed a bit. He presumed her leg had fallen asleep, "Good night." She limped over to the girls dormitories and disappeared.

"Good night" he said in a hoarse voice and went back to his own dormitory.

Once inside the room, he sluggishly put away his things, changed into his pyjama's and pulled his curtains around his bed. Within minutes, he was asleep.

* * *

Aimee only had a few days to finish her dress, because the ball was on Friday night. So far she had created the skirt part of the dress, because that was by far the easiest bit, and she thought she'd done a good job. The top part, however, was proving to be quite challenging. Far more challenging than she thought it would be. The day of lessons passed her by quickly, and before she knew it, she was sitting on her bed, legs crossed, her curtains drawn around her four poster bed and she was creating the final details of her dress. After an hour or so of sewing, unpicking and resewing she had finished the top. Now all she had to do was to put the pieces together.

She placed the skirt under the bust of the dress, waved her wand and said,

"Vestio Partum!"

At once the two pieces glowed, and attached themselves together. She picked up her dress, it felt soft in her hands, and she observed it, trying to find any imperfections, but she couldn't find any. She peeked through her curtains to make sure she was alone, and indeed she was. She stood up, walked to the mirror and held the dress up against herself. It was the right length, and it seemed perfect to her. She folded it up neatly, and stowed it away safely at the bottom of her trunk, so that no prying eyes would see it.

She ran her hand through her hair, and felt that it was greasy. She pulled her toiletries out of her trunk, along with a towel and headed for the girls bathrooms. She opened the door and stepped into the stony bathroom. To her right were the showers, directly in front of her, through a door, were the toilets, and to her left were the baths; those too were behind a door. She walked through the door to her left. Each bathtub had its own private room, with supplies in the cupboards.

She chose a room on the far side, where it was more private. She lit several candles, which created a green flame and cast a green light around the room. Turning the emerald encrusted taps; she filled her bath with hot water and added some bubbles. She stripped off her clothes and stepped in carefully, the water was extremely hot. After a minute or so, she finally sat down and allowed herself to go under the water, wetting her hair. She soaked in the bathtub for a while, half asleep, going over the events of her sixth Hogwarts year in her head. She then thought about yesterday and asked herself, Why was Draco absent yesterday? Why did he only come last night? What's wrong with him?

Then she asked herself another question: Why did she care? She decided not to think about the answer and allowed herself to fall back into a half sleep.

_She was laughing, facing a man with broad shoulders, short black hair and blue eyes; he was also laughing. Behind her, a woman picked her up and placed her side-saddle on a broomstick that was floating four-feet in the air. She looked up at the woman, who had brown hair down to her waist and twinkling brown eyes, who had swung her leg over the broom and was now sitting behind her, holding her close, so that she wouldn't fall. Finally the man seated the broom, leading them; and they were off. They soared through the sky for what seemed like hours, she never felt so exhilarated in her life. She heard the woman yell something to the man; he looked back at them, smiling. He could not see the enormous oak tree that was now ahead of them..._

Aimee jolted back into consciousness, her bath water now icy cold, and there were no more bubbles. The candles were no longer lit, and her skin was ridiculously pruned. She pulled herself out of the tub. The cold air on her already cold skin made her shiver so violently that her teeth were chattering. She checked her watch, which she had discarded on the floor, along with the rest of her clothes and saw that it was 2:25 in the morning. She pulled the plug out of the tub and got dressed; drying her sopping wet hair on her way back to her dorm room. She wasn't surprised when she saw that was nobody in the common room, and that all the girls in her room were asleep.

She lay down on her bed, without bothering to pull her blanket over her, even though she was cold. She'd had that dream before, she knew it. But to her, it seemed more like a repressed memory. The man and woman felt so familiar, like she'd met them before, but she also felt very young, maybe around the age of a toddler.

Aimee didn't sleep that night; instead she tossed and turned until the sun rose. She got up, got dressed and headed off for breakfast, feeling only vaguely tired.

* * *

The lesson after lunch was History of Magic. Draco had no idea as to why he hadn't dropped it, it was extremely boring. He sat at his desk, his head resting on his arms. He was trying painfully hard to not fall asleep, to try and listen, but sleep was winning. He looked to his right and saw Ernie Macmillan; they had class with the Hufflepuff's. He turned his head again, in the seat to his left sat Pansy, in front of her sat Aimee, who also had her head on her desk, although she looked like she was listening.

Draco took out a piece of parchment and wrote on it, and passed it to Pansy, she read the words:

_What does Aimee's dress look like?_

Pansy's nostrils flared for a split second before she wrote her answer and passed the note back to Draco,

_Not a clue_

He wrote back,

_You don't even know the colour?_

She answered,

_Nope, nobody does. Already tried to get her to show us or tell us. That girl can really keep a secret._

Draco didn't write back. He merely fell back into his stupor, thinking about his own dress robes he had received just this morning.


	7. The Ball

Aimee was sitting cross-legged on the floor of her dormitory room, in front of a mirror, holding hair pins in between her lips. She was dabbing a potion on her hair; she didn't like brushing it often, so there were a lot of knots and tangles. Wiping her hands on her shorts, she picked up a hair brush, pins still in her mouth, and started brushing her hair. It took a good few minutes, but when she was finished, her hair was smooth and tangle free, reaching down to the top of her waist. The other girls in her class were getting ready as well, in front of their own mirrors, applying make – up, curling or straightening hair with their wands, asking for help with their zippers and gossiping about their plans for the night.

"So Aimee," started Daphne Greengrass, another sixth year Slytherin with curly blonde hair and light hazel eyes, "I hear you're going with Draco"

Pansy took a sharp intake of breath, but nobody heard it over the rest of them giggling, that is except for Aimee and Pansy. Aimee rolled her eyes and took the pins out of her mouth and placed them on her bedside table next to her.

"I guess you'll have to wait and see," Aimee said indifferently, standing up and putting on her slippers, "now if you'll excuse me, I have an appointment to get to."

She pocketed her wand in her shorts and ran hurriedly all the way to the fourth floor and entered the hospital wing. She had spoken to Madam Pomfrey about getting the scars on her back removed, but unfortunately, for whatever reason, no matter how hard she tried, Madam Pomfrey simply couldn't get rid of them permanently. She'd tried potions and spells and creams, but to no avail. She told Aimee the best she could do was a Concealment Charm, but it'd only last for a few hours. For Aimee, it was more than enough. Madam Pomfrey performed it quickly, because she only had an hour to get ready for the Ball, it was 6 o'clock; the ball started at 7. After it was done, she had only 50 minutes to get ready, and so she ran top speed back to the dungeons. It was a funny sight; in a school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, you don't expect to see students wearing shorts and t-shirts, running through the halls wearing their fluffy slippers.

She came back a little out of breath and took residence on the floor again, starting to carefully apply her make – up. She didn't need much, only some eyeliner, mascara and blush. But the careful application of this took her a while, for she wasn't used to it. Checking her watch she saw she only had 25 minutes to fix her hair and put on her dress. As she turned back to get her wand, she heard the noise of a loud tear and the shriek of Pansy's cackle as she skipped out of the room in her own royal blue dress.

Aimee jumped up, and looked for the source of the noise. She saw her dress on her bed; the curtains around it were open, which concerned her, because she'd left them closed. As she stepped closer she saw it: a large rip around the skirt of her dress, the dress she'd slaved over, the dress she was meant to be wearing in less than 25 minutes. She knew Pansy had done it on purpose to sabotage her, and she felt her eyes stinging with angry tears. What was she going to do?

Suddenly there was a soft knock at the door, and a third year stuck her head in the room,

"Are you Aimee Hallicraft?" she asked quietly, she too looked like she was going to the ball, she was wearing a black velvet dress, and her hair was up in a knot on her head. She looked pretty.

"Yes" Aimee answered, trying to not look like she was about to cry

"Draco Malfoy sent me," the girl blushed at saying his name, "he wants to know how long you'll be"

"Tell him I'll see him in a second"

And with that, the third year left the room, closing the door behind her, leaving a very angry Aimee in her wake.

* * *

Draco sat slumped in an armchair near the entrance of the girl's dormitories, impatiently tapping his foot. He'd asked a third year girl to ask Aimee how long she'd be. Immediately the girl turned completely pink and accepted his request, running off to the girl's dormitories. He sat in the armchair, waiting for the girl to return. There was only 20 minutes until the Ball started, and everyone had already left the Slytherin common room, except for the third year girls group of friends, who were patiently waiting for her near the exit. If Aimee didn't hurry, then by the time they'd reach the hall, the doors would be closed, and it'd be embarrassing having to open them and have everyone watch them enter. They would of course open the doors a little later on, but during the dinner, Draco knew that certainly, the large and heavy wooden doors would indeed be closed.

He heard the sound of feet from the girl's dormitories and looked up; the third year girl had come back. He looked at her expectedly, and she flushed a bright pink,

"She said she'll see you in a second" and hurried off to join her giggling friends, their laughs died out as soon as they stepped through the stone wall.

Draco stood up, and fixed himself, straightened out his robes and checked his reflection in one of the mirrors hanging on the wall, and waited. He heard the sound of bare feet making contact with stone and saw Aimee walking down the steps in nothing more than a pair of shorts and an oversized t-shirt. Draco's eyes widened,

"What are you doing?" he hissed at her, immediately he saw her narrow her eyes.

"It's not my fault!" she snapped, "Someone tore my dress, I have to fix it."

Draco knew immediately who did it; he didn't need Aimee to tell him who it was.

"Just fix it, quickly and hurry. We don't have time!" he warned, pointing at his watch.

"I know!" she said, making a motion with her arm as if to calm him, "Just go, I'll meet you there"

"What." This wasn't a question, nor was it a statement; Draco found the idea simply ridiculous, "No! I guess I'll have to wait for you"

Aimee rolled her eyes,

"Don't be so stubborn Draco, just go! I'll be there soon, promise. Just save me a seat"

Draco opened his mouth to argue,

"Go" she told him forcefully and turned around, running back up the stairs. Draco didn't have much of a choice, he had to go to the Ball on his own and wait for her. He turned around, whipping his robes as he went, and stormed out of the common room. He made it just on time to the Ball, a few minutes or so before the doors closed.

When he entered the Hall, Draco saw that it had been decorated the exact same way as it had been for the Yule Ball. It was like a Winter Wonderland. There was fake snow falling from the ceiling and disappearing about a metre above the heads of the students. There were ice drops coming down from the ceiling as well as the walls and on each table stood a small ice sculpture, each one a different shape.

He found two seats with some other Slytherins and sat down, cursing under his breath that tonight, of all nights, Pansy Parkinson had decided to play a trick on not just Aimee, but Draco as well.

* * *

Aimee nearly turned her entire room upside down, looking for _Creating Clothing for the Creative_, she had tried to use _Repairo_ on her dress, but it hadn't worked. She realised that this wasn't any other dress and that she would need the book to help her. She wasted time searching for it, before she realised that she was a witch, and witches had their own way of finding things.

"Accio book!" she said breathlessly, waving her wand. It had flown out from under Millicent Bulstrode's bed, and Aimee caught it swiftly, wondering what it had been doing there. She licked her thumb and forefinger, and flicked through the pages of the book quickly. She was sure the Ball had already begun, and that the doors were most definitely closed, which meant that she'd have to open them and have everyone stare her down as she walked to her seat. Upon finding what she was looking for, she grasped her wand again and stood in front of her dress, which she had now hung up from one of the posters surrounding her bed, doing a small wave with her wand she chanted,

"Repairo Tela"

A golden glow surrounded the dress for a few moments and when it died away, Aimee saw that it was perfect again. No tears, no crinkles, nothing. She put the book away and her wand on her nightstand. She checked her make – up again, it hadn't changed, which was good. She sat down on the floor again; with her wand, hair pins and a brush. She brushed and pulled and curled and pinned until she had her desired style. She checked her watch as she took it off her wrist. It was 7.15. She started cursing under her breath. By the time she'd get to the Great Hall it would be 7.30. She was really going to be late.

She slipped on her dress and shoes, and put her wand into a discrete pocket in her dress. She put on some plain diamond stud earrings and a simple chain bracelet. She was happy with her look. She quickly set off to the Great Hall, hitching up her skirt as she did so, and cursed profusely under her breath. She'd kill Pansy when she saw her, absolutely kill her.

The hallways were silent as she walked; the only noise was the sound of her heels tapping against the stone floor. As she reached the Great Hall, she saw that she was right, the doors were closed and she could hear practically the entire school behind it. Aimee took a deep breath and pushed open the doors with both hands, the room slowly turning silent as she walked in.

* * *

Draco was sitting at his seat, his head resting on his left palm, playing with the food on his plate. He didn't bother trying to make conversation with Theodore Nott or his girlfriend, Daphne Greengrass, for they sat canoodling each other and whispering dirty things in each other's ears (he didn't need to be told they were dirty, judging by the looks on their faces, these whisperings were completely filthy). He was considering leaving and finding Aimee, but he knew that would mean everyone's attention would be on him, which he usually liked; but not in this situation. He sat fuming for a few more minutes; this evening was not getting off to a good start. Suddenly the sound of the massive wooden doors opening caught his attention, and he turned around to face them. Instantly his heart lifted and he smiled. The chatter that filled the room turned silent for a moment before it broke out in excited whispers. Aimee walked slowly - and a little awkwardly – to where Draco was sitting.

Her hair was pulled back to one side, and was sitting loosely curled on her left shoulder and her make – up accentuated the features on her face perfectly. She was wearing a floor length, cherry red silk dress, with a low back and a corset that made it only halfway up her back. The sleeves were capped and short and the front went into a 'V' shape that showed just enough of her tanned skin and went into an empire waist. She looked amazing, to say the least. Her sapphire blue eyes stuck out against all the red and shone more brightly than they usually did.

The students all around the Hall were whispering and pointing at her, and Draco stood up. He could hear people saying things like,

"_Is that that Hallicraft girl?"  
"She looks gorgeous!"_

"_I wish my dress looked like that!"_

"_That Malfoy's a lucky guy"_

"_I'm so jealous!"_

Draco smirked as he pulled out a seat for Aimee and waited for her to sit down, before he took his own seat. Daphne and Theodore pulled away from each other long enough tell her a quick 'Hello', before touching each other again. Draco could see Theodore eyeing Aimee out of the corner of his eye. Draco kicked him under the table, and he quickly took his attention back to his girlfriend.

Aimee took the menu in front of her and Draco could see she was trying to ignore the whispers around her, even though the students had taken back to lively chatter.

"Roasted chicken" Aimee said, and a plate of roasted chicken and roasted potatoes appeared in front of her. It looked delicious.

"You look..." Draco began, but he simply couldn't find a word that described her beauty, she looked at him,

"Ravishing" he finished

Aimee blushed and turned away from him. He noticed that she didn't have the scars on her back anymore, but decided not to say anything about them. Throughout the dinner they discussed a variety of subjects, the most interesting one, Draco found, was that of Quidditch:

"No, no, no, no, no" Aimee said quickly, "The Hollyhead Harpies are definitely the best team! Especially because they're an all girls team, it shows girls are just as good as boys on the Quidditch field!"

"This has nothing to do with girls versus boys," Draco countered, "this has to do with skill!"

"So you're saying they have no skill?"

"No, I'm saying that the Lightning Lucks have more!"

The Lightning Lucks were Draco's favourite Quidditch team; they had been ever since his father had taken him to his first Quidditch match. Their team colour was a honey gold, and each player was as graceful as a bird on his broom. Although, he had to admit: they were just as successful as the Hollyhead Harpies.

"Oh yes, that's why they're at a draw with the Harpies." Aimee pointed out, with sarcasm. Draco realised they weren't going to come to a compromise, so he changed the subject... almost.

"What position would you prefer to play?" he asked her

Aimee's eyebrows went up in surprise, Draco didn't answer her sarcastic remark, but she decided to answer his question.

"Hmmm, probably a... Beater. Yeah, a Beater." She answered thoughtfully, "No point asking you what position you'd like to play" she added with a smile, which Draco returned. He was the Seeker of the Slytherin Quidditch team, and a pretty good one at that.

"Do you play?" he asked, but she didn't get a chance to answer, because Professor Dumbledore had stood up to address them all. Draco felt a slight upheaval in his stomach, but ignored it.

"Good Evening students!" Dumbledore's warm voice boomed across the Hall. The last of the chatter died away,

"I trust you have made yourself comfortable!" he didn't wait for an answer, "It is currently 8 o'clock, for those of you who have not worn a watch tonight. In a few minutes, the music shall begin and I am sure you will enjoy yourself once you head off to the dance floor. The tables and chairs will clear away, so I suggest you all stand." The teachers at the tables stood, as did some other students, "There will be a table of drinks and some chairs will be left for you to sit on once you feel tired. First years, your curfew is in one hour, second years - an hour and a half."

The first and second years groaned, but Draco smiled to himself. If 9.30 was the curfew for second-years that probably meant that sixth and seventh years could stay up well into the night. He heard the scraping of chairs against the floor as students stood up. He stood and gave his hand to Aimee, who took it and stood up. A couple seconds later the tables and chairs disappeared and on the far side of the Hall stood a long table filled with all different types of drinks.

Draco heard a few shrieks and he saw that some girls were not as quick on the uptake, and had fallen as soon as their chairs had disappeared. One of these was Pansy; Draco watched as Blaise picked her up off the floor. She was wearing an off the shoulder dress, it was royal blue with gold trimming. Around the waist there was a gold fabric belt, and its train was about a foot long; it was very elegant. She stood up and pulled her hair out of her face, scowling at Blaise. It was apparently his fault that she'd fallen, even though he tried to catch her.

Draco took Aimee's hand and led her out onto the dance floor as soon as the music had started. At first there didn't seem to be many couples on the dance floor, but slowly after a few minutes, more students had decided to join them. A slow waltz was playing and each pair of students was swaying slowly to the music. Draco had one hand on Aimee's waist, the other holding her right hand. Aimee's left hand was on Draco's upper arm, the other in his left hand.

* * *

Aimee and Draco swayed in silence. Aimee was quite fond of this, it was very peaceful. They swayed side to side, slowly moving around the dance floor. She could feel Draco's hand tighten around hers, and he brought her in closer to him – she didn't object. He was warm, and she could feel the firmness of his chest under his robes. She brought herself to lay her head on his chest (he was much taller than her, his shoulder was out of the question). Aimee could feel Draco look down as she did this, and he rested his chin on the top of her head. She could feel his heartbeat through his robes and heard it quicken slightly and she smiled.

They stayed like this for the next few songs, and Aimee felt herself starting to get tired. Apparently Draco was feeling tired too, because he offered to get drinks. He led her away from the dancing couples, and didn't let go of her hand. They reached the table of drinks, and Draco started pouring her a glass of pumpkin juice, but she objected,

"I can't drink it" she told him

"Why? You don't like it?"

"That, and I'm allergic to pumpkin"

"Oh" Draco quickly put the glass away, he didn't want to drink it and then not be able to kiss her later in the night. They poured themselves some fruit punch, and found some seats. Once again they were immersed in conversation, laughing about their teachers and rumours that were flying around the school, one of which was that Professor Slughorn had once had an affair with one of his students.

"Oh god!" Aimee squeezed out, in between laughs, there were tears trickling slowly from her eyes.

"I – wonder – who – it – was" Draco said in between deep breaths, he was laughing so hard he was clutching his stomach. With another jolt of laughter his glass of fruit punch fell out of his hand and shattered on the floor. But the two teenagers were laughing so hard, neither had noticed the broken shards of glass at their feet.

"I hope you know," said Lavander Brown, who was sitting only a few chairs away from them, with Seamus Finnigan, "that you just broke one of the glasses, Malfoy."

She was wearing a purple-pink Grecian type dress, and her long light brown curly hair was pulled into a half up- half down hairstyle. She turned back to Seamus who said something about them going somewhere more private, and they both stood; leaving the Hall. Draco and Aimee looked for several seconds at the broken glass and started howling with laughter again. It wasn't that they found the situation funny; they were just in such high spirits.

The music had livened up, and Aimee recognized the music as a fast Tango. She jumped to her feet, and with a large smile she took Draco's hand and they walked to the dance floor, leaving the shards of glass where it lay. They started to dance along to the Tango, both surprised at the others skills,

"How do you know how to do the Tango?" asked Aimee, looking up at Draco, as she did a small complicated movement with her foot and spun,

"I could ask you the same thing" he answered, as he put his hands on her waist and lifted her swiftly into the air, and put her back down. Unbeknownst to them, a few students had started watching them.

"I asked you first" she said with a cheeky smile, he smiled back

"Well, I _am_ considered high society," he explained, "My parents found it proper I knew how to dance. Only Ballroom though." He added. Draco looked at her expectantly,

"I taught myself," she told him, "always thought Ballroom was graceful, so I bought myself a few books, turned on some music and spent an entire summer teaching myself."

They continued their dance, without noticing more students were now watching. Aimee turned her head, and saw Hermione in her mauve chiffon dress, her hair was in a high barrette bun, with her fringe coming out to frame her face. She looked like a fantasy, almost like a fairy, only without the wings. Aimee caught her eye and smiled, then turned to face Draco once more.

"Hermione looks nice" she said quietly. Draco turned to look at Hermione and curled his lip.

"Doesn't change the fact that she's a mu-" he started to say, but Aimee stopped dancing and looked at him, causing the couple behind them to bump into her.

"Don't" she said, her voice low and dangerous, "Don't ever say it in front of me. I'll let it slide tonight, but never again."

She watched as Draco stood in shock at her reaction.

"Sorry" he mumbled, and stood forward and took her hand again – and they were off. Aimee was a bit stiff, but loosened up quickly.

"Why?" she asked Draco after a minute

"Why what?" he spun her around, and wrapped his arm at her side, before they returned to their original position.

"Why are you so prejudiced against muggle-borns?"

"Because, I'm a pure-blood. My status is higher than theirs."

"No," she said sternly, "No, it's not. What makes you think you can put yourself higher than another human being?"

He stopped for a second, but continued with the dance. Aimee could tell he was avoiding her gaze.

"I don't know," he finally answered, "I guess that's just how it's meant to be."

* * *

The music stopped momentarily, and at this moment Aimee chose to pull herself away from Draco. Professor McGonagall stood up,

"Fourth years, curfew in five minutes!" she called. A groan came out amongst the fourth years, and some of them started leaving straight away, not bothering to finish their dance. A quick look at the clock told Draco it was 11.25. The music turned back on and everyone resumed dancing. That is, everyone, except Draco and Aimee.

She stood there, staring at him in shock, and her nostrils were flaring. Without another word she turned to leave, but Draco grabbed her delicate wrist. He took it much harder than he'd meant to, however he got the desired effect.

"Don't leave, I'm sorry" he pleaded

"No," she said, her eyes looked saddened, "how can you possibly think that of another human being? It's not fair, it's not right. Everybody is equal, _everybody_. Nobody is better than anybody else and they never have been. To think so, would make you a fool."

Draco didn't move or speak, he was stubborn, but he was rational enough to realise when someone had a point. He didn't see when Harry Potter had walked up to them, presumably to try and stop them causing a scene in front of everybody, and asked Aimee to dance.

"I believe she is _my_ date, Potter" Draco said through gritted teeth, without relinquishing his hold on her

"Ginny's my date," Harry answered simply, "doesn't mean I'm not letting her dance with other people." He gestured behind him, and Draco saw that Ginny was dancing with Colin Creevey.

Reluctantly he let go of Aimee and headed outside. On his way to the doors he could see Harry and Hermione trying to calm her down. Draco sat on a bench in the snow, snowflakes falling gently on his platinum blonde hair. He breathed in the icy and crisp air, annoyed at himself for not keeping his mouth shut.

_If she gets angry about my thought of mudbloods,_ he thought to himself, _how will she react if she finds out I'm a Death Eater?_

The thought made him shudder, and not from the cold either. He sat silently, staring out onto the frozen lake and listening to some giggling girls as they hid with their dates, playing with each other.

The sound of footsteps trudging through snow made him look up and from the flash of red he could tell who it was. Aimee sat down on the bench next to him. Neither of them spoke. Draco could see the condensation of her breath as she breathed in and out. He turned to his left and tried to pull off a rose, but the thorns caught his thumb and he started to bleed. He put his thumb in his mouth and sucked on the blood, which tasted salty.

"Here," Aimee said finally, reaching out for his hand, "let me see."

He gave her his right hand and she took it in hers. Her hands were exceptionally warm even though they were sitting out in the cold. Her soft touch already made the cut feel a bit better, then she pulled her wand out of her pocket and whispered "_Episkey_"

The cut on his thumb healed and she wiped the leftover blood off with her own thumb. She held onto his hand, and Draco stared into her eyes, they were a deep blue and it reminded him of the ocean. She also stared into his slate grey eyes. Draco started to lean in, his mouth slightly open and Aimee followed suit. They were centimetres from each other's faces when Aimee smiled and whispered,

"Not tonight Draco"

She got to her feet and bid him a good night, before walking off, presumably to bed. Draco remained on the bench, realising how close he was to finally kissing her. _If only I acted just a little faster_, the thought to himself. He stood up and checked his watch, and saw that it was just past midnight.

_Merry Christmas Draco_, he thought, as he made his way to the dungeons, and into bed.

* * *

**Notes:**

Enjoy!

And please review! :)


	8. Wilfred's House

For the Christmas Holidays, Professor Dumbledore had announced that the break would be extended by an extra few days because of the Ball taking up the first days of Christmas. Aimee had decided to spend her Christmas break with her uncle in the country, after receiving an invitation from him by owl. Her Uncle Wilfred liked the quiet life in the small town of Allendale, located in Northumberland, not too far from Newcastle, where he had his own farm. He managed this farm on his own, but it wasn't too much work for he was a wizard and used magic to do most of the heavy pulling and strenuous chores and he enjoyed the peaceful life he could lead. Uncle Wilfred claimed life on a farm was much better than living in the Wizarding community as he found the company of cows more appealing than the ever irritating presence of the Ministry.

When Aimee walked through the barrier of Platform 9 ¾ and into King's Cross Station she found him waiting for her. He waved his hand and smiled. Uncle Wilfred was a tall man, much taller than most, with black hair and blue-grey eyes and broad shoulders. He was the youngest of four children, though he never looked it, because he'd outgrown all his siblings by the time he was twelve. He was constantly teased by his older brother, and Aimee's father, Geoffrey, for being so tall. Aimee hugged her Uncle, but only reached up to his waist. He gave Aimee a toothy grin as he took her trolley from her hands.

"How was the ball?" he asked in his deep and soothing voice. Aimee had always found her uncle a reassuring presence.

"It was great, really enjoyed myself" Aimee answered, feeling herself blush. Uncle Wilfred saw this, but said nothing, he remembered his own parties from his childhood quite well, and knew exactly what kinds of things kids her age got up to.

"How are we getting to the farm?" Aimee asked, changing the subject.

"Oh, we're going by Floo." He answered, "From the Leaky Cauldron"

After sending Aimee's trunk away with a flick of his wand, the two of them walked together to the Leaky Cauldron and used the fireplace to transport themselves to Uncle Wilfred homely abode. Uncle Wilfred lived in a small, two-storey cottage in the centre of his farmland. Stepping out of the fireplace and into a small sitting room with two soft plush armchairs, a wooden coffee table and photographs of various family members on the wall, Aimee walked out into the hallway. To her right was the front door, to her left and all the way down at the end of the hallway, was the family room. She quickly made her way down to the family and stopped at the antique wooden piano; which could be seen from the hallway.

Whilst her Uncle busied himself with making tea, Aimee sat at the piano and lifted the lid, and with satisfying plonk of piano notes, dropped her hands onto the black and white keys.

"Aimee! Come into the kitchen!"

Annoyed, Aimee got up and trudged into the kitchen, kicking her shoes off on the way. Uncle Wilfred didn't seem to notice. Instead, he placed a steaming mug of tea on the round wooden table in the centre of the kitchen, before sitting down with his own mug. Aimee sat.

"So," Uncle Wilfred started, taking a sip, "are you going to invite any friends?"

Aimee halted her sip, with the mug only a centimetre away from her mouth.

"You mean, I can invite friends?"

"Of course, why not. It's not Christmas without friends!"

"But Christmas was two days ago" Aimee corrected

"New Years then?" he smiled and took another sip. Before either of them could continue, there was a knock at the front door and Uncle Wilfred stood up to answer. Aimee sat at the table, carefully sipping her tea. She could hear her Uncle and the voice of a young woman, it sounded a bit like flirtatious banter. Aimee stopped, and looked suspiciously through the archway and into the hall. At the sound of footsteps, she quickly went back to her mug.

"Aimee," she heard her Uncle say, "this is Laura, she's my neighbour."

Aimee looked up and saw a very pretty young girl, probably in her twenties, standing next to her Uncle. She was a bit on the short side, and had curly black that was pulled up into a messy bun. She had hazel eyes and a nice smile; she was wearing jeans, work boots and a tight jacket. Aimee could see by the way they were standing there was something going on between them. Aimee stood and shook hands with Laura, who spoke with a soft voice,

"Hi Aimee, your Uncle has told me all about you"  
Aimee felt a small twang of contempt

"Funny, he never mentioned you."

And the two let go of each other's hands. Uncle Wilfred quickly saw the tension between the two and stepped in,

"Laura only moved in next door a few months ago," he explained, "she bought out the property"

"I'm sure" Aimee said with a sweet smile, and sat back in her seat.

"Well, I should be going." Laura said, she wasn't stupid, she could see Aimee didn't want her there,

"Nice meeting you Aimee" she said politely, and left the kitchen, where Uncle Wilfred let her out the front door and walked back in.

"That wasn't very nice" he told her sternly. Aimee raised an eyebrow, she didn't really care. If her Uncle was shagging the neighbour he could've just come out and said it. She got it, he was young and handsome and he used it to his advantage. But Aimee didn't dare say it,

"Sorry, next time I see her I'll apologise"

"Thank you." he said, "Now, about your friends, would you like to owl them now?"

"Yes" Aimee stood and reached for a pen and paper, "How many can I have?"

"Many as you like," he answered, waving his wand; the mugs disappeared, "just as long you still get chores done at the end of the day"

Aimee turned to her Uncle incredulously,

"Are you serious? I'm only here for a week and a half!"

A mischievous grin reached his face,

"Wouldn't have told you if I wasn't, I'm not asking you to do anything big, just small stuff"

Aimee eyed him, scowling. He was only doing this to pull her leg,

"Fine"

She sent out four owls: one to Hermione, one to Harry, one to Ron and one to Draco.

Draco was lounging on his king size bed in his bedroom. He was throwing a foam ball in the air and catching it again. He'd arrived home that morning, but had so far only seen a glimpse of his mother and it was already evening. Honestly, he didn't want to see anyone and he was lucky he lived in such a large house; it was incredibly to hide if you didn't want to be found. With four-storeys and dungeons, over thirty-five bedrooms, seventeen bathrooms and countless rooms that hadn't been used for years; there were plenty of hiding places.

His mirror gave a quiet tingle, and settled down again. Draco had charmed it to do that anytime someone opened the door to his outer chambers. Not wanting to be disturbed, he quickly rolled off his bed and lifted the tapestry the right of his bed. Behind the tapestry was a small wooden door, which he opened and crawled through; and shut the door behind him. He'd crawled into a small hidden room that he'd discovered when he was six while trying to get away from his angry father. He'd set up an armchair and a few candles in there, as well as some books if he'd ever get bored and was stuck in there for a while.

As he plopped down into his armchair and listened to his bedroom door creak open. He heard his mothers' voice,

"He's not in here Lucius… I thought he might have been hungry…"

And with that, she shut the door and Draco felt a twang of sadness. His mother, who was usually strong and beautiful, was now defeated and sullen; with large dark circles around her eyes and the fire from her eyes gone. Draco sat in the chair for a few more minutes, biting his lip, when he heard a rapping on his bedroom window, which convinced Draco to come out of hiding and he re-entered the bedroom. At the window was a black horned owl with a note attached to its foot. Draco slid open the window and let him in, and the owl flew to the wooden desk near the window. He slid the note off and read it, recognizing the neat handwriting,

_Hi Draco,_

_I was wondering whether or not you might like to come over during Christmas break._

_Just send back your reply and a time and date if you can_

_Aimee_

Draco smiled. Of course he was going to come. He'd rather be anywhere but home at the moment. He took a fresh piece of parchment and wrote down just as neatly on it,

_Sure. _

_Thursday at noon._

_Draco_

Smirking, he rolled up the parchment and attached it once more to the owl, which flew out the window as soon as it was tied securely to its leg. Draco fell back on his bed and felt his stomach grumbling. He got up and left his bedroom, making his way to the kitchen.

After receiving owls from Ron and Harry saying that they wouldn't be able to make it for the Christmas break, Aimee felt a bit disappointed. It was only the next day when she received two more owls, one from Hermione and one from Draco. Hermione's owl said that she'd join her on Wednesday, whilst Draco's told her he'd visit on Thursday.

When Wednesday finally arrived Aimee sprang out of bed, eager for the day to begin. Hermione was coming, and she'd promised her she'd show her the horses. Dressing warmly, she skipped down the stairs and into the kitchen, where her uncle was standing, holding Laura in his arms. They were kissing quietly, but passionately. It'd looked like she'd spent the night. Without wanting to make a scene, Aimee tiptoed back out of the room and went to the bathroom just across the hall and locked herself in. She waited a few minutes before she was sure Laura had left the house before she went back into the kitchen and sat at the table, where there was a plate of scrambled eggs and a mug of hot tea waiting for her.

"Good morning" he said cheerily, piling up a plate of scrambled eggs for himself.

"Morning," Aimee replied, "You seem like you're in a good mood."

"Oh? Didn't notice..."

Aimee pressed on,

"I'm not stupid, I saw you and Laura."

Uncle Wilfred stopped. He looked as though he was trying to find the right words.

"I get it," Aimee said for him, "You're in a relationship, there's no need to hide it from me."

"Well," Uncle Wilfred said, looking relieved, "I'm glad that's settled. Thank you for understanding."

But Aimee didn't respond. She picked at her scrambled eggs for a couple minutes before eating them, and the two finished their breakfast in silence.

At long last, Hermione had arrived. She had snowflakes in her hair from the long trip from London and pink cheeks from the cold. At once Aimee offered her a cup of tea, where her Uncle Wilfred was sitting and reading the _Daily Prophet_. At Hermione's entrance he put down the _Daily Prophet_, gave her a sweet 'Hello' to which she answered, before asking how her trip was,

"Oh, it was fine. My parents drove me"

"Neat things, cars, aren't they?"

"Oh yes" she answered

And with that he went back to reading. Hermione blushed and looked away to face Aimee,

"So what are the plans for today?" she asked

"Well, I guess if it's not too cold we can take the horses out for a couple hours"

Hermione squealed with glee, and followed Aimee out of the cottage and into the horse stables where there were three horses, a honey coloured one, a black one and white one. Hermione ran straight for the honey coloured horse and asked its name,

"Her name is Annabel"

"Can I ride on her?"

"Sure, let's saddle her up"

After half an hour, the two girls had saddled up Annabel and the white horse, Rose. The black horse was named Kelvin.

The two teenage girls slowly rode the two horses through the meadows the entire day, gossiping about everything from boys, to school and certain events at the Ball. When Hermione had left, it was well into the evening. Aimee skipped supper and went straight to bed.

Draco was to meet Aimee at noon, and though it was only 11:50, he thought he might as well leave now, because honestly; he couldn't wait to see her. Striding over to the fireplace in his out chambers, he took a handful of silver powder in his hands and threw it into the fire. Instantly the flames turned green and he yelled out "Wilfred Hallicraft residence, Allendale!" before stepping in. The familiar sensation of being engulfed by the flames came, and then he felt himself transition from his own fireplace to another. He found himself in into a small sitting room with two armchairs and a wooden coffee table. He could hear music coming from the hallway in front of him and realised it was a piano playing; the music sounded extremely familiar to Draco.

Walking quietly and slowly down the hallway, he saw Aimee seating at a piano, playing it lovingly. He recognized the music as the _"Moonlight Sonata" _by Beethoven. Not wanting to disrupt, he leaned silently against the doorway and continued to listen. The piece was a long one, but Draco liked it, so he stood waiting for a few minutes. When it finished, Aimee said,

"I didn't know you enjoyed Beethoven"

Draco straightened up, a little bit startled.

"How did you know I was here?" he asked

"I can see you in the reflection on the piano" she answered, turning around to face him; she was smiling.

"Why didn't you say something?"

"Didn't wanna break the flow of the music."

It was at that time a man walked into the room from the back door. Draco realised it was her uncle, he could see the similarities between the two; mostly the blue in their eyes.

"Aimee, I need you to do something for me before your-" But the man had realised Draco was in the room. He walked over and shook his hand before introducing himself,

"Wilfred Hallicraft, I'm Aimee's uncle"

"Pleasure, I'm Draco Malfoy"

Wilfred gave him suspicious look that only lasted a split second, before turning to Aimee.

"Well, it looks like Draco might have to help you out. It'll get done much quicker if he does"

"And what might this task be?" Aimee asked

"I just need you to move the straw to the other corner in the barn" he told her.

Aimee sighed deeply, obviously annoyed. Draco on the other hand said nothing. He didn't want to do it, he'd rather lock himself and Aimee in her bedroom and not come out until evening, but he didn't dare object.

Rolling her eyes, Aimee agreed.

"Good. Draco," Wilfred turned to face him, "You can borrow one of my shirts, you don't want to get yours dirty." After the last sentence he turned and left the room the way he came in.

"Come on," Aimee said, getting to her feet, "Follow me"

She brushed past him and into the hallway, and made her way up the stairs. Draco followed. At the top of the stairs, she turned left and walked to the end of the corridor and walked into one of the bedrooms. Draco followed her inside. She was digging around in the second drawer of the dresser looking for a shirt. At long last she pulled out a dark burgundy button up shirt and threw it to Draco.

Aimee watched as Draco caught the shirt with his hand and proceeded to take off his jacket. He was about to pull off his shirt before he looked up at her and raised an eyebrow. She hastily turned around, so that she couldn't see him. But, in her good fortune, she could see his reflection on the window she was facing – and he had no clue.

She watched him pull off his black shirt and reveal his chest. It was lean and had just the right amount of muscle for Aimee's taste. She bit her lip and didn't remove her eyes from his reflection. But in a few seconds he put on her Uncle's shirt, and his exposed chest was now gone. As he was doing up the second last button, he said,

"You can turn around now"

Aimee looked at him awkwardly, a little embarrassed that she'd snuck a peak at his chest.

"Follow me" She said, and led him out of the room. He followed obediently. They took the back exit out of the cottage and trudged through the snow towards the large barn about fifty yards from the house. Draco watched as she pushed open the wooden double doors. Inside, on the right was an old car with tools lying around aimlessly around it, whilst on the left was just straw. At the back of the barn was a staircase that led upto a small blacony type second floor. Together they walked to the massive piles of straw, he picked up a pitch-fork as Aimeespoke,

"Basically, we have to move it all to the other side of the barn so that there'll be room for the new car"

"Car..?" Draco asked

"Yes," Aimee gave him a quizzical look, "You _do_ know what a car is, right?"

Draco felt a bit embarrassed, how could he not know what a car is? But Aimee continued,

"It's a Muggle form of transportation, you drive it to where you want go. They come in all different designs and stuff..."

"Right" Draco didn't really understand how it could work without magic, but he decided to accept it anyway. Aimee could see he wasn't quite getting it, so she dropped her shovel and walked to old car in the corner.

"This," she said, placing her hand upon the car, "is a Chevy Imapala, 1967"

"What do you mean 1967?" asked Draco, also walking to the car

"I mean, it was made in 1967" she explained

"Why would anyone want a car that's nearly thirty years old?"

Aimee rolled her eyes

"Because, it's a classic. Wilfred's been fixing this one up, he loves working with his hands, rather than using magic for everything."

Draco thought her Uncle Wilfred was insane. Who would want to lug around and do work, when with flick of their wand it could be done for them in less than ten seconds?

"Yes, well, that's great." Draco said, "But how about we get some work done?"

All in all it took them about two hours to get the straw to the other side of the barn. When they were done, Draco was no longer feeling the cold, but now was very hot. He looked over Aimee and saw that her forehead was a little wet from sweat, and hoped that he didn't have the same thing.

"Hey, do you mind if I take a shower?" she asked him, hanging her shovel on the side of the wall.

"No, not at all" Draco replied, hanging his pitchfork on the side wall as well. When they exited the barn, the cold air hit them and Draco was no longer hot. When they entered the cottage, Wilfred was nowhere to be found, so Aimee just told him to go back to his bedroom and get changed while she took her quick shower.

Draco changed within a minute and went out into the hallway and sat down on a sky blue armchair. He heard the running water from Aimee's bathroom stop. He looked to his left and saw that she'd left her bedroom door open, but only a crack. Without making a noise, he got to his feet and quietly walked to the door, but kept his distance. He could see her moving around the room, wearing a pink towel, her hair up in a high bun so that it wouldn't get wet.

Draco watched silently as she walked out of view, and came back into view wearing nothing but her underwear and a bra. He smiled to himself as he watched her pulling on a singlet and pants, then a sweater, socks and shoes. When she started pulling her hair out of its bun, he walked back to the armchair and seated himself to make it look as though he'd been waiting there the entire time.


End file.
